Absolutely Maddening
by RachealRose
Summary: Mind games are a yes please in my world. Which in retrospect, was the likely reason for my incarceration in Arkham Asylum. Whatever. It hardly matters now. What does matter is the massive amount of boredom that comes with living in an asylum. However, the asylum has a new inmate. One with red hair and a twisted smile. Will he bring me excitement or fall victim to my mind games?
1. Chapter 1

Credit for all characters in Gotham, as well as, some key plot points go to the writers. My Oc is mine.

WARNING* My Oc character is criminally insane. In other words, she takes pleasure out of hurting people. If you cannot handle this type of content do not read the story.  
*Also, I do not in any way condone this type of behavior. Hurting people mentally or physically is not cool.

I hope you enjoy! -Rachael

* * *

It was another dreary day in the nuthouse, and here I was sharing my precious time with the nuttiest of the bunch. The guy on my left use to be the CEO of a big boy business until the coppers found out he was forcing his dear employees to fight their way into the company. Mr. Richard Sionis was an evil, evil man. With the help of his legal team, he was merely detained here in Arkham instead of being subjected to Blackgate. But make no mistake, Richy was as insane as the cannibal seated across from me. You see Richy was a narcissistic douchebag. Sadly, that was his only redeeming quality. The rest of him was oh so mundane. Like his stories.

 _Shoot me now!_ I almost wish that Greenwood would start raving about some of the girls he killed. At least that had gore in it. Richy's stories about ponies, university and whatever rich people did in their spare time, always make me want to puke. My. Brains. Out.

You'd think the only narcissist here would be more entertaining but nooooooo. He had to be the driest piece of cake I'd ever laid eyes on. _hhhmm cake. What I wouldn't give for a piece of angel cake right about now._

I lifted my head from the cold metal table where it had previously been lying to look at my only real source of entertainment in this shit hole, Robert Greenwood. He, of course, had his eyes trained on me like a predator fantasizes about its next taste of juicy meat. _God, I_ _ **loooove**_ _this guy._

You see, Greenwood before his time in Arkham asylum killed and ate Twenty-something women. Quite an impressive number. Hmm speaking about eating women, it's time to interrupt the story.

Interrupting Sionis would usually lead to some type of severe retaliation unless the interrupter was me. With a warm smile and a mischievous glint in my eyes, I met Greenwood's stare and asked,"Hey Robby, if you could eat anyone in this room who would it be?"

He seemed to catch my infectious smile, and without skipping a beat, he replied, "You."

Keeping up my amused expression I wondered what it would be like to be his victim. "hmmm…how would you prepare me? Would you simply put some salt and pepper or maybe add some spices?"

"Depends what I'm in the mood for. But I think a girl like you has enough flavor all by yourself."

His words made my smile stretch wider, "Robby you say the nicest things to me."

The previous statement drew the fun to its end. The boring business boy, who had been frowning at the pointless interruption, continued on with his drabble,"As I was saying before that unnecessary interruption; the woman was about 6 inches tall..." and the torture began again.

Honestly, Richard Sionis had started out a fresh, fascinating guy, with entertaining stories. Of course, after a while, the stories molded together. He'd tell the same type of story over and over again. It's the consequence of living in Arkham. You see interesting people come in, they tell their stories, and then they would keep recounting the same damn stories over and over. To see such raw potential in one place, only for it to fizzle out, is truly _**maddening.**_

That was the problem with Arkham; even the sane end up mad in this hell hole. Sometimes you need a trick to get out situations that make you wanna rip your skin off your face for kicks. My trick is to focus on one interesting thing.

So I looked around what I'd call the main room of Arkham. This room was for the really long-term patients. It housed a few metal table, the ones that seem to be the same sort I sat on in high school. There were about sixteen crazies in the room today. As I searched for one exciting person to talk to I got more and more discouraged. None of these people were worth my time. _No no no_. They were boring broken people. I liked my toys clean and presentable. I wanted to play with the bright shiny ones. Until... Well until they weren't shiny anymore. I loved taking a beautiful toy full of hope, and then break it down until their brains turned batty. That was the type I enjoyed messing with. Hell, I could even stomach twisting the broken pieces till they become a new better type of toy.

You couldn't do that with the people here, the majority were boring garbage people. Sadly, the people of Arkham were usually poor people pushed to the edge until their brains turned into oatmeal. I hate oatmeal. I like flavor in my food. Bland, boring oatmeal, _not for me_.

Everyone in this room _booooored_ me. Mary Ma _d_ pie was talking to herself in the corner; Jake was not a jackpot in the interesting department, and Lenny was… well, he was Lenny. Arkham needed some new meat. Meat that's seasoned to perfection. Unlucky for me, the only frequent new people that end up in Arkham are the ones with oatmeal for brains. Well...that and…  
 _Guards!_ Why hadn't I thought of it before! So many new shiny guards come in each week. How easy would it be to take one to play around with? I could have _so much_ _ **fun.**_

This is perfect. _Oh so fucking perfect_. All I have to do is find the right one. A guy just waiting to be destroyed. And my oh my, what do I spy over yonder? Is _that_ a toy soldier all for me?

Slipping away from the psycho squad was no problem. While Robby watched every step I took, Richy didn't even stumble over his story.

I glided over to the fence that lined the enclosure. Ran my hands along the cold metal until I reached the part where the guard stood. The man had white skin, dark blond hair, bright blue eyes; in other words, he looked like the sort that shat red, white, and blue. He was separated from me by the fence, but it didn't matter much. My words were my weapon.

I looked at him, acting like this was the first time I noticed him, "Hey." shy to the point.

He didn't reply, instead, he chose to look right past me. New guards were trained not to interact with the inmates at Arkham. Seems like he was a good boy.  
I looked down in resignation, "Well... okay then." I took a deep swallow, looked at his shoes and said, "I'll just get out of your way, and let you continue your job in peace."

I let go of the fence, turned away and walked back to the table. I felt my toy's eyes on me as I kept my head low. Once I crossed the room, I slumped into the seat. Richard was still talking, but that didn't stop me from breaking into a smile.

Now that he knows who I am, the next step is to get more time together.

I faced my friend so I could look him in the eyes as I asked him my question: "Hey, Richy... could you do me a little favor?"

At my interruption, Richard stopped his story. Processing the implications of my words, he seemed to straighten his stance, reminded me of a predator about to pounce, "What exactly do you need?"

"You see the guard staring at my back right now." I nodded in the guard's direction and gave Sionis the time he needed to analyze the guy. Once he turned back to face me, I continued, "I'm going to mind fuck him. Bad. And to do that I need him to replace Jon."

His brows furrowed, "The guard that escorts you everywhere?"

"Ya, him."

Richard took his time to think it through,"What do I get in return?

"Whatever the fuck you want Rich. Whatever. The fuck. you. want." If he didn't notice the smirk on my face, he would definitely recognize it in my voice.

Without a moments pause, he replied, "Okay. I'll see what I can do." 


	2. Chapter 2

Credit for all characters in Gotham and some key plot points go to the writers. My Oc is mine.  
WARNING* My Oc character is criminally insane. In other words, she takes pleasure out of hurting people. If you cannot handle this type of content do not read the story.

*Also, hurting people mentally or physically is not cool. Don't do it.

I hope everyone enjoys! _

The boredom was back. It had been days since I picked out that piece of meat for slaughter, and Sionis was taking his sweet ass time delivering what he promised me. So here I was in my small cell, sprawled out on my shitty excuse for a mattress. I swear to God there was a bedspring poking my ass and to top it all of I had an obnoxious earworm in my head for the past three days. All and all, it was not a very lovely morning.

Which is why I took my time breathing out the sigh that had been building up inside me. Short sighs were for annoyed people, and I was far beyond annoyed by this point. No, I was downright livid.

" Inmate 177." A deep voice interrupted my thoughts. "Stand beside your bed with your hands up, facing the door."

I did what the man -who clearly was not my regular guard- told me to do. I slipped off the bed, turning my body towards the door and stretched my arms out to the sky. _Seems like the games were about to start._

I could hear him jingling the keys as he placed one into the lock and turned it.

 _Ready_

He swung the door open and walked into my cell.

 _Set_

I felt his hand on my wrists. He grabbed them roughly as he placed my hands in front, and click the handcuffs on my wrists.

 _Go_

"Hey, umm… these are kinda tight. Can you please loosen them a bit?"

Instead of answering me the guard tightened the handcuffs more. The action caused me to gasp, which he ignored.

We proceeded to exit the cramped cell. I took my time scanning the guy. My eyes caught onto his blonde hair and blue eyes. It was exactly who I needed it to be. _**Wonderful**_ _. Hmm… on the second look you can really notice his jawline, it's so defined. Nope. No drooling over your plaything. Back on task._

"What happened to Jon?" I asked staring into his eyes. I made sure to put on a slight hint of confusion on my face but mainly focused on my worrying.

His empathy picked up on my emotions, his face well still stern, had pity blooming in his eyes," Jon was attacked this morning by another inmate. He died."

I blinked in surprise almost as if the information had slapped me in the face. My eyes began to water a bit, so I broke eye contact and focused in front of us. I swallowed and then breathed out a pitiful, "oh." I concentrate on my breathing. I wasn't about to cry in front of a stranger.

After walking down the long hallway filled with jail cells, we came to a gate. The guard worked his guard magic, and we entered a different part of the building. The offices were all here. My breathing became even, and I blinked back the tears. I looked back into the guard's eyes, "sorry I didn't mean to freak out. Jon's always been... good to me."

The guard swallowed, he had a tinge of worry and understanding in his eyes. He saw me as a human being now, instead of an animal.

 _Step 2, complete._

I changed the subject,"So are you bring me to see Dr. Truso?"

"Ya, it's this way."

We continued our walk to the psychiatrist in silence.

Once we got to Truso's, he shifted in front of me to knock once on the steel door, then he paused, only to knock once again. The marvelous Dr. Truso greeted the both of us by swinging the door open and motioning for us to enter.

My guard let me walk in first, after all, guards are not supposed to show their back to us, the crazies. Understandable, really. However, it shows a lack of trust towards me. _Smart._

I walked several paces towards the couch, the toy soldier tried to follow, but the good doctor placed her hand in front to block his path. Her serious demeanor grabbed his attention, he subconsciously straightened up; her searching eyes noticed his behavior and filed it away for later. The bitch loved to figure people out, she thought of us as puzzles instead of people.

She spoke to him with authority "My sessions with Miss Evans are one on one; no guards are permitted inside. You are required to stay outside my office for the duration of this session." With no further pause, the psychiatrist closed the door in his face.

I plopped down on the comfy couch with enthusiasm. " _Heya doc."_

She sighed.

"Good morning Miss Evans."

With a few brisk steps away from the door, she took a seat on the chair set up in front of the couch. The chair was positioned so she could tower over me. Apparently, it gives a psychiatrist a sense of authority that the patient is supposed to mirror.

Did it work on me? Nope. Did she _still_ try to use the technique? _Yep_ **.** Honestly, she wasn't very good at her job. The stick shoved up her ass got in the way of her actually having a working brain. Well, a working brain that wasn't focused on supporting her massive ego. Doctors these days, never as good as advertised.

"During our last session we talked about your relationship with your last boyfriend, Mr. Thomas Johnson..." she searched through her notes as if she hadn't spent the morning reviewing each sentence. "Yes, I believe you said, and I quote, 'It's not like I made him blow up that high school. It was his decision." she looked away from her notes and down her nose at me. " However, am I correct in my assumption that you were an active part of his decision making progress."

I stared into her eyes not bothering to provide her with facial expressions, "Is that your way of asking me if I told him to kill a bunch of innocent children."

Her face stayed stern, unforgiving, "Miss Evans this was not the first man you were acquainted with that ended up hurting people." The doctor shuffled through her notes once again, before continuing on, "It was not even the first one that tried to kill high school students. May I remind you of Jeremy smith, he broke into a high school with an Ak 47 and tried to murder a classroom full of students."

I blinked "Jeremy had problems, all of them did, but they were the ones that hurt those people. I never told them to kill anyone. That was there chose to make, _not_ mine."

She continued, "So it's a coincidence that you go after men that randomly go from smart, successful young men into cold-blooded murders."

I shrugged, " _Maybe,_ I don't have a very good taste in men."

"Perhaps, or maybe you go after these men because they remind you of your father."

" _Excuse_ _**me**_ _."_ I spat out.

My reaction caused the corners of her mouth to turn up for a few seconds only to return to her previous expression. Finding satisfaction in my outburst she continued her verbal battle, "Your father was a successful CEO of a famous company, he graduated from Harvard with a great GPA. Your last three boyfriends all went to Harvard, one of them even graduated from the business program. It completely reasonable that you date these men and put them through extreme mental anguish as a way of getting back at your father."

I shook my head and looked away momentarily, only to return my gaze to her, and ask: "Get back at him for what?"

"You tell me."

Her schooled response provoked the raging beast inside me, so I snapped, "My father loved me, sure he missed a birthday or two, but he ran a multinational corporation so my mom and I could live in luxury. He was a great man."

"And did he make it to any of your performances?"

I crossed my arms,"He was busy."

"Was he?" she asked condescension evident in her tone.

Her tone took away the last of my self-control, It set me down the rabbit hole and on the warpath. I rolled off my defensive posture letting the animalistic impulses take over. Gone were the slouched shoulders and crunched up stomach; instead, my position was unnaturally straight. I watched as her body unconsciously reacted to the threat I presented. My eyes latched on to hers demanding absolute attention, her focus could be entirely on me, not her notebook. Now it was time to destroy any sense of control she felt. My lips curled up at the thought of her going home tonight and taking a shower, I could practically see her rubbing her skin raw trying to wash my gaze off.

"You know _doctor_ , maybe the reason you think the route of my behavior comes from my relationship with my father is because you, yourself have issues with your own father. I bet he was an old-fashioned man, thought that instead of you trying to get an education you should get a rich husband, pop out a few kids." Oh, she did not like this turn of events. No, she was losing her power over me. "Maybe his lack of support changed you drastically. So to support your ego you had to focus on being successful, after all, clearly, you could no longer get the support you needed from love. It's the reason why tonight you'll go home to an empty apartment, feed your cat and go to bed early. Because your father ruined any possible relationship you could ever have with the opposite gender. _Isn't that right_ _ **doc**_?

The doctor stood up from her chair, face not revealing a single emotion, she turned away, towards the door and said, " That's the end of our session, I'll see you again two days from now."

 _Hook, line and sink her._

I laughed, standing up from the couch and made my way towards her, " _What_ did I hurt your _feelings_ doc?" my voice was full of fake sympathy, "Did I make you think too much about your _**pathetic**_ excuse for a life?"

Truso couldn't take anymore, she swung her body around to face me as she did so, she raised her hand.

I felt a sharp pain, it took me moments to recognize where it came from. She hit me in the face, hard enough that it was going to leave a mark. _Perfect._

She ignored me as I gasped in pain; instead, she opened up her office door and motioned for the guard to take me away.

I felt him eyeing the unmistakable bruise forming on my face, but he chose not to utter a word as we walked back to the cell. I was looking back at the ground again. My shoulders were drooping, plus my face was positioned in a way where he would see the mark, yet would still appear as if I was trying to hide it.

 _Oh, therapy, how I love you so._


End file.
